


Captain My Captain

by MyBlackCrimsonRose



Series: Build Me a House and Call it Our Own:: a Haikyuu!! Omegaverse [16]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Actual Volleyball being done, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Being a proper Bro and taking one for the team, Captain Tsukishima Kei, Established Relationship, Future Fic, M/M, Omegaverse, Poor poor Bokuto, Quickies, Team Mom! Yamaguchi and Yachi, Their Third Year, Voyeurism, surprise surprise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-27
Updated: 2016-07-14
Packaged: 2018-07-18 11:43:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7313908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyBlackCrimsonRose/pseuds/MyBlackCrimsonRose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The thing that these kouhai will eventual learn is that the typical "Mom and Dad" roles in the team aren't just towards the players. They can be towards the manager as well. </p><p>(Also known as: in their third year the team doesn't just have one team mom but two.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for helping me with all these new first years~ I ended up with eleven new first years and one new manager. Though, we won't meet her until the next chapter shortly before seeing both Kuroo and Bokuto (and most likely an energetic Noya).
> 
> So yeah, Tsukishima will be blackmailing (and maybe also bribing) people into coming down and helping with practice. So no one can ever say this poor boy never attempted to give it his all for his team. 
> 
> Also, should I or should I not have one of Tsukki's kouhai crushing on him? Hmmm. I'm leaning more towards yes 'cause Kuroo is a shit in my head when he finds out. But we'll see.

**“We return to our regularly scheduled program—”** Tsukishima sighed, pushing his long body up off the couch and into motion. Crossing the distance in three long strides, turning the television off manually. Phone buzzing in his pocket; incisive, constant. One message fired after the other, the buzzing only growing.

He pulled his phone out of his back pocket; Line. _Very Berry Ballz Team._ Someone changed the group name again. Thumbing open the phone, the app, finally commenting on the wall of notifications.

 **[CaptainTK:]** Stop changing the name.  
[PrincessPeachisaBitch:] rude captain!!!!!!

Tsukishima returned his phone to his pocket, ignoring the other wave of notifications, his butt vibrating incisively. The first week of their new school year, the first years not yet even seeing the gym where they’d spend the better part of their next three years in. He had a stack of papers to go through with their names on them—he had wanted them for his own research purposes before handing them over to the authority.

He’d like to know just what exactly he was walking into the gym with this Monday morning. In two days he’d be standing before new freshmen, this time playing the part of Captain. Over the winter break, between spending his days down in Tokyo when he had been permitted to and lazing around like a lazy teenager that he was, he and Yachi had drawn up plans for the training for this up and coming season. Neither had a way to contact either their coach or sensei about these plans until school had begun anew.

Lists of practice matches and teams they’d like to face—the skills they wished to hone from it. Lists of exercise and research into certain dietary concerns and routines. Yachi and Tsukishima had done it all; all they could think of from google searches to straight up pocketing past recordings of their games. They’d go over them with the team, with both the old and the new, have them piece together things with fresh eyes.

Poking his head into the kitchen, Tsukishima smiled softly towards his mother. “I’m going over the club forms up in my room. Call me down when dinner’s ready?” The woman glanced over her shoulder a brow raised at the fact that he was _asking_. She waved him off with a snort.

He took the stairs two at a time (three or four stairs just posed too much of a risk of injury), footfalls heavy as he made his way into his room. His phone buzzing again in his pocket, begging for attention. And so he granted the device his attention; gathering the stack of ten from his desk and falling into bed, Tsukishima pulled out his phone before diving into the paperwork.

[I-take-a-chip&eat-it:] who helping w/ the 1st year game  
**[CaptainTK:]** I’ll let you know when I’m finished reading over the forms.  
**[CaptainTK:]** had wanted to have Matsuoka play but we have two first year liberoes  
[Rin-is-the-stupid:] Poor matsu has to watch w/ the rest of us  
[Yama:] So do plan on having the third years play w? ‘Cause I’d play against you  
**[CaptainTK:]** I was going to take notes but we’ll see on Monday  
[THEGIANT:] I play  
**CaptainTK:]** no.

He set his phone down after replying to Hinata—he’s not letting him play in that game. No way in hell. The orange haired beta had a nasty habit of making games into a show of just how high those tiny little legs could launch himself off the ground, but it wasn’t about him (still number ten even in his third year simply because he didn’t want to give away the number of his hero) it was about the _freshmen_.

He plucked the well-loved stegosaurus plushie from beside his bellow, cradling it in his lap as he finally went about reading through the club forms.

Recently, by that it means last year, the school had begun to add the class section to fill out. It was a bit of a double edged sword—some clubs would see the class and reject the student, or alienate them within. Tsukishima had heard of Omega students being met with hesitation in many of the more _physical_ sports (the ones that were more contact affiliated). But in Tsukishima’s own opinion he rather enjoyed knowing what his teammates where before something were to happen.

Last year they had obtained two Alphas—a scarce thing on their team—by the name of Rin and Sousuke. Both often trailing after Tsukishima in efforts to improve upon their blocking—they were both middle blockers after all. The other three for the past year were Betas; two wing spikers (Yamagi and Yoshida) and their new starting Libero (unless one or both of the first year liberoes that he’d spotted were far better and Coach pulled Matsuoka).

Out of the former team that Tsukishima had started playing with at the beginning of his high school volleyball career, only he was the sole different class. Hinata and Kageyama? Betas. Yamaguchi and Yachi? Yup, Betas.

But, thumping through the stack that he had laid out before him, Tsukishima noticed the striking number of new Omegas. Four. There were four Omegas joining the team. The list of Betas joining was always much larger—they are the largest population of course, but still. To have _five_ Omegas now in one team; was Karasuno starting to become the go to school for Omegas wanting to play on even grounds with the other classes in Volleyball?

Tsukishima huffed at the thought. Just because one gathered in one location didn’t mean anything if they’d be good enough to play as regulars. The more there were certainly increased the odds of seeing one of their own on the court, but still.

To think; would there be more flocking next year when they learn that an Omega was made Captain? Was it just the class title that piqued interests or was there actually something else?

His mother’s call for dinner broke through his mussing, effectively halting them once he called back. “I’ll be right down!” His phone forgotten, Tsukishima left his sanctuary and joined his mother downstairs. It’ll be just the two of them eating together that night.

\--

Tsukishima puttered around while both his music and webcam were on, both parties doing their own thing but in the added comfort of being in each other’s company (kind of). This’ll be the last year they’d have to do this— _last year_. Was it sad that Tsukishima was already starting to pack away some of his trinkets so he could take them with him and find a place for them the next time he’s down?

His mother seemed to be a little upset by it, if the wobble of her eyes was anything to go from. But, he figured it was because he was _growing up_ and leaving _the nest_.

With his grades all throughout high school left him with the knowledge that he’d be able to make it into a school of his choice closer to Tokyo—the trains were easier to use around their as well, so even if he wasn’t going to Kuroo’s University he could have the means to get to another school relatively easier than out this way.

 _“Hey sweetheart,”_ Tsukishima paused his wrapping of a few of his numerous dinosaurs figures (and collection). His long legs easily taking him towards his desk where his companion’s face was visible and quickly slid the volume control for just his music down.

“Yeah?” the blond asked tucking a leg under himself before getting comfortable in the chair.

 _“You wanted Bo and I to stop in for Friday and Saturday practice right?”_ Tsukishima nodded. He’d already ran it by his parents and he, personally, had already changed his brother’s sheets (it weird calling it a spare room when it’s _his brother’s room_ ) for Bokuto to sleep in. _“Good ‘cause Kenma and Akaashi want the apartment for some form of weird ritual and the little bastard made me give up my bed.”_

“Ritual?”

Kuroo’s naked shoulder rose and fell in a one armed shrug. _“Something about good luck and studying. I’m thinking the whole thing about the goats and hamster blood was to scare Bo—it worked—so they could have some time to themselves. Kenma’s been a bit frazzled since moving into his dorm and learning that his single was given to someone else and he has a really shitty roommate. And Bokuto is being really clingy still after Akaashi went on that trip with his family out of country for that month over the break.”_

Tsukishima raised a brow, waiting for that other shoe to drop. There was something else he wanted to say—had to be. _“We’re thinking of moving to a bigger apartment so Kenma could move out of dorms. With the four of us we should be able to handle the rent—and then of course when you’re here it’ll be easier. But he’s already paid for this semester so he’s stuck there for half the year.”_ There it was. The other shoe. _“So unless the school suddenly decides to give him a single, then we’ll be looking for three bedroom apartments.”_

Tsukishima’s fingers tapped against the desk. It wasn’t that he was bothered by any of this; he had his assumptions of Kenma’s living arrangements as soon as Kuroo moved into that apartment. “Well I should just keep my stuff in boxes then.” It’ll still be easier to bring his things there and move it from there than bringing it all at once from home when he went about moving out. Kuroo’s hysterical (and, if Tsukishima was being frank, ugly) cackling cut in and out of his laptop speakers, the pitch distorted. “Tetsurou. I’m serious.”

The man’s face pinched like he chewed on a lemon, shoulders still shaking as he kept his laughter tucked within himself. _“S-sure,”_ he finally pushed out between snickers. Tsukishima didn’t know what exactly had set the man off (maybe he had made a face?) but he was _still_ overcome with it.

“I’m hanging up.” Tsukishima snapped, mouse already hovering over the red hang up button. The man’s shouts quickly followed—then quickly _halted_ once the blond did exactly as he said. He had hung up. Smirking to himself, the blond volleyball Captain admired his trimmed nails, counting to himself.

 _One. Tw—_ the sound of an incoming call on Skype broke his musings. _Didn’t even make it to three._

\--

An eleventh forum appeared right before the first year’s game. The first year bowed low, “I’m sorry for being late. My family recently moved here and my transfer was finally accepted.” Tsukishima took the paper from his out stretched hands.

Kawasaki Izumi. Setter and Alpha.

Tsukishima sighed; now they had uneven setters for each team. “Shit,” he cursed before tucking Kawasaki’s form with the others he had under his arm. “Go line up with the rest.” He waved him off towards the lineup of eager first years waiting for the teams to be called out so they could finally _play_.

Tsukishima had originally hoped to put in Matsu to get his engine running early this year, but with two new liberoes joining they had priority. And now with a third setter it unbalanced the sides yet again. He flipped through the forms again, organizing them into two new teams.

“First six called serve first; Sato Sei as your libero. Hitsuharu Yuu and Kawasaki Izumi for setter. Kogure Tetsuya, Sasaki Shuu, and Miyuki Daiki.” He pointed to the side of the net behind him. “This side will have Miyuki Daichi as your setter. Kuminato Ren as libero. Sakurai Ryouta, Fushimi Jun, and Sawamura Reiji. You five will have our second year, Rin.”

Rin jolted into attention, sour expression widening into shock. “Or is that too difficult for you to handle?” Tsukishima teased, eyebrow raised into an easy taunt. The second year bristled, posture stiffening as he marched towards the side missing a player.

 _Alphas_ , Tsukishima rolled his eyes. Moving to stand beside Yachi by the door; the rest of the second years broke off into either handing the furthest team the ball, standing on either side of the scoreboard, or joining the rest of the team up on the stage ledge to watch the match.

“Looks like there’s a good spread of positions in this group,” Yachi chipped in, beaming up at him. Her notebook opened and pen poised to jot down quick notes for the players. She’ll give them to Coach Ukai later when he’d join in for practice in a few days—once the team has their claws firmly buried in the freshmen—that, and most likely send something to Noya seeing that they do have two new liberoes and the graduate did promise to come back to help _whip them into shape_ if they got some new liberoes this year.

“There’s four Omegas,” he clicked his tongue against his teeth, crossing his arms over his chest. He’d have to be extra vigilant for any possible heat cycle deviations for those four—an Omega’s heat could trigger another’s early as well of also sending young Alphas into a frenzy. Tsukishima didn’t exactly like calling it a _rut_ , but the chemical reaction of an Alpha’s body mirrored an Omega was clinically labeled as such.

It was the phenomenon that made Alphas able to keep their Omega partners satisfied during their heat—the main reason why Omegas tended to mate with Alphas in the first place. Their bodily functions easily parred to withstand the other.

Yachi’s lips pursed, nodding slowly at the hinted implications. Betas didn’t have that reaction to an Omega in heat—didn’t fall prey to the wild urges that both Alphas and Omegas tended to befall upon. “Will you ask about them or do you want me?”

Tsukishima was a fellow Omega, as well as a senior. He’d be the one most likely to understand what they’d be subjected to. But Yachi didn’t have the title of _Captain_ in her title. She was a Beta—a true neutral.  

“I will,” the ‘ _but if they don’t tell me, you take over’_ silent but hinted.

Yachi nodded.


	2. Hello Febreze, Have I Mentioned You Ruined The Afterglow?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I regret nothing. 
> 
> As well as, have I informed you all just how much I love poly-ships? 'Cause welcome to my casual mention of a new one~ Welcome to the hint of Kageyama with two baes! *throws confetti*

Yachiro Sora came barreling into their lives like a freight train; all speed and knockout power that left you either down-and-out or straight up into the afterlife. Oozing Alpha confidence and lack of subtly. “Where’s the Captain?” she had snapped, hands on her hips and nose angled upwards. Like she was looking down at, not only her _senior_ , but a person a good foot taller than she was.

Tsukishima’s eyes had narrowed when her nostrils flared, getting that good solid whiff of Omega scent before exhaling just as quickly like she was purging the scent from her being. “ _I am_ the Captain,” his tone had put a halt to the mindless chatter that the team had busied themselves with once he had finally taken his stink eye away from them.

Both Hinata and Kageyama perking up at the tone; _that’s his ‘I take no shit’ tone_ , Hinata had stage whispered to the first years he had dragged both he and Kageyama into the middle of. Looking around human shields to not miss another moment of a possible shit show—if Tsukishima’s tone was anything to go from.

Yachiro’s eyes widen, a deep flush exploding high over her cheeks. Mouth agape, stumbling over words while her brain fumbled with something to dig herself out of the mess she had just made. Tsukishima mirrored her earlier stance; looking down his nose at her, arms crossed across his chest. He wasn’t mature enough to allow something like this go—not while he was Captain, and certainly not in front of this team.

He’d might’ve let it go last year, or the year before. But he didn’t _trust_ this group to take his act of silence as strength. And, in a way, he was acting in benefit of the four other Omegas currently present—no Alpha could simply waltz into a place that they were meant to think of as _their own_ and as a _safe space_ for them. No way.

“What do you want?” Tsukishima raised a brow, sparing a glance towards the new arrival of Yachi and Takeda Sensei who bristled at the tense atmospheric pressure steeping out from Tsukishima as quickly fanning out to suffocate everything in the room.

At least the first year didn’t shrink or shiver; the only hint of hesitation was in her speech. “I—I want to be this club’s manager—!”

“No.” Tsukishima turned, glared hinting a head of bright orange hair as the other third year quickly ducked in front of the taller first year that made up his human shield. “But that’s my opinion—the ones that hold the right to say anything just walked in.” Her shoes squeaked on the floor boards as she turned back to face the door. “ _But_ ,” he stated, glancing back one last time over his shoulder. “We have four other Omegas in this club and I _will **not**_ allow _any Alpha_ to parade their perceived dominance.”

\--

You meet people who wish it was still the old ways every so often. Sure, there were Betas who shared that view point—even could say the same for Omegas. But it always felt _real_ to Tsukishima when he’d hear Alphas go about it.

It used to irk him when he’d hear it as a kid; whispers of it repeated on the playground, mentality established by parents or siblings or extended family or even neighbours. It used to just be another little tick, just another little scratch on the chalkboard—at least until he had gone over to the Kuroo’s family home to eat dinner with them that one day.

It wasn’t until Kuroo Seijiuurou that those issues really seemed to bother him. Maybe it was because he considered Tetsurou as family already (Akiteru, Yamaguchi, and Yachi already did refer to him as Tsukishima’s _mate_ ), and as much as Tetsurou _hated him_ he was still his elder brother in blood.

 **“Kei,”** the voice against his ear broke through his prolonged silence. **“Yachi turned her away, there’s nothing else you can do—other than hunt her down, but if you’re really to that point just tell _me_ who she is and what she looks like and I’ll make an exception of my ‘I don’t slap girls stupid’ rule ‘cause she’d have deserved it at this point.”**

Tsukishima snorted, rolling his eyes at the suggestion. “She didn’t turn her away completely. She told her to prove herself to the team that she could accept them on top of handling all the other manager roles.”

 **“That’s pretty much turning her away, Butter Muffin.”** Tsukishima snorted at the new obnoxious nickname. **“If she can’t reach _your_ expectations, she’s never gonna be the manager. You’ve just painted a bright red bullseye on her back even when you and the other third years retire—if your team cares for you and your word as much as I think they do, they won’t accept her either. Certainly not the other Omegas.”**

“If you say so, Tetsu.” He rolled over, tucked the blanket up over his head in embarrassment despite no one witnessing the dust of pink appearing along his nose.  

 **“I _do_ say so. Now, how’s the feat of blackmailing Shittykawa into crashing a practice? ‘Cause I have some more blackmail material for you from our latest test we just got back which he lied to his Iwaizumi about. He told him he got a 70 but in truth it was a 31. The poor bastard!”** Kuroo snickered on the other end, flipping through his textbook as he went about _reading_ (was he really?) his textbook for the lecture next week. **“There’s a new thing you can dangle over his head if the whole taunt him with Kageyama doesn’t work in favour.”**

Tsukishima didn’t understand what sort of mess Kageyama was getting in with his middle school senpais’, and truth be told, he didn’t really _want to_ understand what type of relationship those three were developing into. It made his head hurt too much to think of an Alpha-Beta-Alpha partnership. Too much stubbornness, too much natural engraved aggression.

\--

Yachiro had returned every day that week, lingering behind Yachi or close to the door just in case she stepped on any more toes. She was present when the three that Tsukishima called in for _assistance_ finally arrived in a whirlwind of noise. “Noya-senpai!!” Hinata exclaimed, dropping the volleyball and running full tilt towards the first of the arrivals stepped in. His footing stumbling when Bokuto’s head appeared around the doorframe; Hinata’s gazed zeroed in on the Alpha as the former Captain swooped in, arms wide as he stole the leaping tackle-hug that had originally been for the former crow. “Bokuto-senpai!”

The pair twirled with enough speed to lift the younger’s leg parallel to the court. “Baby crow!” Bokuto cooed back, smooshing the orange haired teen’s head against his chest. The scene allowed for the third party to slip in undetected, shaking hands with Coach Ukai and thanking him for allowing the pair to join them for practice this weekend.

“It gives the neighbourhood association team some time to plan around their work schedules, so you and whoever else they roped into helping with practice are a lot of help.” The dyed blond haired man chuckled, rubbing at the back of his neck. Watching as the rest of the team slowly eased their way towards the two newcomers once Hinata had finished with his very loud, and very… _touchy_ greetings. “Though, I suppose I should actually introduce you to the newbies.”

Kuroo smirked, “that’ll be nice, yes.”

It took some effort to detach the two from the club, but he did it. Like leading a heard of cats (well, the analogy worked for one of them but he was the one that wasn’t behaving like one _for once_ ); Noya flanked by the former Tokyo Captains. “This is Noya, the third and second years already know him. But he used to be our starting Libero for three years.” Ukai pointed to Bokuto next; “This is Bokuto. Was the team Captain, Ace, and Wing Spiker of Fukurōdani two years ago. You’ll meet their current team at the training camp in the summer alongside three other Tokyo teams. Lastly is Kuroo; Team Captain and Middle Blocker of, our rival team, Nekoma two year ago.”

“Based off the practice scrimmage you had against yourselves earlier this week you’re aware that you have many _things_ to work on,” the Captain of the crows finally spoke, finally making himself known to his guest. “Our team has always tended to focus more along the lines of attack rather than defence, and because of that it severely limits our plays. Every year we lose key pieces of our defence, and as much as Hinata boast about his _prowess_ with soft blocks, I don’t trust him and neither should you.”

“THAT’S RUDE CAPTAIN STINGYSHIMA!” Said middle blocker hollered.

Tsukishima didn’t even blink, continuing on as is the interruption only punctuated his earlier point. “The only way you get better is learning from someone who’s better and by playing against them and _losing_. So, Bokuto, there’s four setters you can choose from to toss to you. I want you to destroy my underclassmen.”

Bokuto’s eyes water; “our little Tsukki is so _mean_ ,” he dabbed his corner of his eye with a knuckle, “I’m so _proud_.” His chest swelled with pride at his pack-mate buckling down in his Captain shoes and being all _responsible_. “I can’t wait to gush about this to Kenji!” Kuroo clutched at his own heart, head angled upwards with eyes pinched closed.

Noya clapped his hands together, “well! I’m going to have to yell at the kouhai on how to properly receive.” He rubbed his hands together, grinning at the lot in front of him with a glint in his eyes.

Kuroo, until given the word, was the only one not actually doing anything it seemed that day—which was fine. He and Bokuto were down for the weekend while Noya had mentioned that he was only visiting for the day before going back home (to the shared apartment he had with Asahi that was a, he believed, forty-five minute bullet train ride away). He’d step in to fill the role of receives coach the next day.

Until then, he’d just quietly (and very openly) admire his beautiful beloved in which he hadn’t seen in the flesh for a few weeks. And _boy_ , did he ever continue to bloom into a beautiful man. Maybe Kuroo was just biased, but Tsukishima had surpassed Akashi in the looks department earlier this year—by like… a lot. Like, no competition anymore. Before it was a hard guess who was the prettier of the two where a flyaway hair, or some poor bedhead would be the deciding factor on who’d be the prettier of the two in that moment.

But _that_ was no longer the case.

\--

Never in all his life did Kei want to become an ostrich just so he could smash his head into the ground and for it to be an expectable situation (though in truth Kei had done research on this phenomenon and learned that they dug their nests underground and would poke their heads in to check on the eggs, thus where the myth originated from). But here he is, both pants and boxers tossed under the covers and kicked to the end of the bed while he and Tetsurou had sex under the covers like a couple of stereotypical Christian suburban homeowners while Bokuto, _yes_ Bokuto, sat at Kei’s desk with the volume turned up while watching a movie.

It was _his_ idea, yet Kei had never actually thought he’d be the one to jump at the chance of _getting it on_ with his bond-mate while in pleasant company—‘cause his Mother _knew_ that if Tetsurou and he had snuck off together, closing his bedroom door in the process, that they’d be doing _the deed_. But, jokes on her, she didn’t plan for Kuroo’s _Bro_ to be willing to tune out any funky business behind his head.

So, here he was, having a quickie under the covers with the bae while someone tried to insipidly ignore them.

It wasn’t one of the best sex they’ve had as a couple, Kei’ll be the first to admit that. Preparation wasn’t up to par for both their liking, though Kei silently congratulated his self-lubricating ‘skills’ for covering for the less-than-liberal amount of lube, and the fact that they couldn’t be _loud_ was another key piece that limited both parties.

They couldn’t _fuck_ loud, they couldn’t moan loud, couldn’t even _kiss_ loud. “Just like that,” Tetsurou whispered, panting against his ear as Kei bit down on his. They couldn’t risk knotting even with protection—there was the _time limit_. A little more than thirty minutes of being tied together. Time limits weren’t ideal in a time pinch situation.

All in all? Not the best sex ever. But, it did the trick—released pent up frustrations, left both smelling like the other again (like _proper_ mates that people would like to ‘jokingly’ refer to them as). That was, of course, until Bokuto pulled open the window then proceeded to just about empty the whole can of Febreze overtop of their lump of blankets while they _attempted_ to bask in the afterglow.  


	3. Oh Captain, Dear Captain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So just for the record, ‘cause I’m not 100% sure I’ve established this, but Karasuno has no classes on the weekend. Nekoma has a half day on Saturday. That’s all. I was thinking of making it like Nekoma’s but nahhhh. It makes it easier to visit each other this way.

Hinata’s nose was bleeding after taking one of Bokuto’s cross spikes to the face when he went to dive to get it. Tsukishima pinched the bridge of his nose when the tiny orange haired senior attempted to wave the injury off as blood _still_ profusely gushed from his nostrils (no longer just the one). “I’m going to have an aneurism,” Tsukishima mumbled to himself, rubbing a palm over his face when Bokuto only went to fist bump the younger male at his quote-and-quote _manliness_.

He took back any and all good favour he had towards the Alpha from last night. But bless their angel of a manager, Yachi stepped on the court with a clean bright white towel and pressed it against the smaller Beta’s face. Ignoring the orange haired boy’s squawking. “Just keep it there before it gets worse,” she sighed, glancing over her shoulder to him to smile. _I got your back_ , and thank fuck for that.

This role as Captain had made his patience short when it came to the peers in his grade. He could handle whatever stupidity his kouhai could get into, but it might just be the fact that he expects more from Kageyama and Hinata now that they were seventeen and thus, figuratively, more mature—didn’t seem to be the case. Is this the type of thing Akaashi has had to deal with since his first year of high school (of course a year younger than everyone else in his grade because he jumped a head another grade because he’s so damn smart)?

Kuroo’s cackle of a laugh rang throughout the gymnasium, hand smacking against the wooden laminated floor while his body shook and shuttered. Tears leaking down his face. Tsukishima’s right eye twitched behind his glasses; why did he get the feeling that his bond mate wasn’t actually laughing at Hinata’s misfortune but Kei’s. “Kei—” he broke off into another fit.

Tsukishima’s name on his lips gathered a few people’s attentions, looking between the two with growing understanding. Tsukishima’s face was no doubt still pinched, his brows furrowed, and quite possibly a vein pronounced on his forehead—he felt like Daichi those two years ago. Quietly stewing, aura wafting out to encompass the annoyances in question.

But unlike Daichi, Tsukishima didn’t have the type of presence to stop the older male. So he did what he knew would work. “Tetsurou,” he snapped. Bokuto _oooh_ ’ing from the same side of the net as the high school captain. Kuroo froze mid-cackle, shoulders tense. His head slowly raised, staring up at him through his fringe. Bottom lip poked out in a dramatic pout—Tsukishima rolled his eyes. “That’s enough, let’s get back to practice,” he sighed. There was no point to reprimand him, it was all harmless fun—nothing new in Kuroo behaviour.

Tsukishima just wasn’t use to the first years (or even the second years for that matter) being here while he had his ‘moments’ with the Alpha.

\--

“So other than Hinata being as clumsy as ever, your guys seem to be looking good,” Kuroo’s fingers intertwined with his as they trio walked back to his house. Yamaguchi and Yachi had long parted ways; both wishing to have some time to do… whatever that new couple tended to do while alone. Tsukishima hadn’t yet smelt and lingering aroma of sex from them, but they could always had rigorously washed it off.

“Receives still need to be worked on,” Tsukishima grumbled, rubbing his fingers through his curled locks, scratching at his scalp.

Bokuto hip checked him on the other side, wrapping his arm around the young man’s waist and laying a head on his shoulder. “That shit takes time to become ingrained. Noya’s stopping in to help from time to time, no? You guys’ll get it sooner than later. Work on blocking next for the practice games you have coming up in Tokyo.”

Tsukishima opens his mouth to confirm just as Kuroo blurts out, “but I’m happy to hear that Ukai is making Yamaguchi a starter this year—it’s about time. His serves are looking a good as ever, and his receives are good.” Tsukishima’s mouth clicks shut, nodding. “Did he work on that for the few years?”

Again Tsukishima nodded. “He, Yachi, and I figured that we need to be able to continue focusing on our defense if we have any hope of making it in tournaments our final years. So Yamaguchi spent a lot more time working on his receives than any of the rest of us with Noya, Ennoshita, and when Daichi would come check in on us he’d tag along for practice with him.” He shrugged, “we always have a team heavily focused on scoring that a lot of them forget that to score we need to defend.”

Kuroo is grinning off ahead, his hand clenching the fabric of his shirt right above his heart. He’s thinking some ridiculous, Tsukishima could tell. “I’m moved,” he sniffles, releasing his shirt to dab the corner of his eye.

“When did you get so cool?!” Bokuto wailed, wrapping another arm around the middle boy and lifting. “Stop being so cool!” He shook; Tsukishima’s eyes narrowed at the feeling of a hand grab his ass. Was that Kuroo’s or Bokuto’s? The feeling of said hand was gone just as quick as it appeared as his feet returned to the sidewalk.

Tsukishima continued to narrow eye stare them down. “Which of you coped a feel?” Both grinned, high fiving each other—it didn’t make any sense.

\--

The weekend passed to quickly, like all weekends tended to do. You’d wake up on a Friday and cheer that it was the last full work-slash-school day of the week, and then it was Saturday and they feeling was still there. Unfortunately for school club goers there still tended to be still that full day on top of a few hours of school on Saturday’s—Karasuno didn’t have that. They had a slightly longer five day stretch but because of that they got Saturday and Sunday off for their own independent studies.

That didn’t stop them from practicing those two days; which they made use of it on Saturday, and at rare times as well on the Sunday. But again, it was rare. With grades not as high as Tsukishima would’ve liked (it’s the first few weeks of school, nothing is too difficult at this time. They shouldn’t already be failing) he had cancelled Sunday practice so they could start insuring that they didn’t fail (he’s looking at Hinata and Kageyama primarily).

The third years needed decent grades to stay the whole year and not retire after the spring tournament and Tsukishima planned to win Nationals come the summer.

Kuroo cupped his face, pulling him down the few centimeters for their lips to slide together in another kiss. Bokuto, ever the saint, continued to hum the nutcracker beside them. The three waiting for the two Tokyo student’s train to arrive and take them back to their caretaker (bless that Akaashi). “I’ll miss you,” Kuroo whispered, tongue slipping between Tsukishima’s parted lips.

Both easily ignoring the public around them, giving a show of trying to swallow the other’s tongue. Tsukishima was too far gone to give a shit about PDA; they won’t see each other in person until the Nekoma match next month even though Karasuno had a practice match against another Tokyo team this coming week—to be so close to the other but not being able to reach to the other was torture.

It make the long distance relationship seem less cruel.

They parted, Kei’s arms wrapped around Kuroo’s waist, his face finding his shoulder. “Is it sad that I don’t want you to leave?” The blond mumbled against the man’s shirt, clinging all the harder when his train pulled up into to the station.


End file.
